Talking With Tails
by QueenOfBeasts
Summary: "Most dogs prefer talking with their tails instead of their words." After a spell gone wrong, can Germany survive the mean streets of NYC? More detailed summary inside. GermanyxOC


SO! My first ever Hetalia fic! *claps* So, if anyone is OOC... yeah, just ignore that. Or tell me! Which ever you prefer! Anyway, lets get on with the show!

**Title**: Talking With Tails

**Full Summary**: While at the world conference in New York, England attempts to once again curse America. But, as usual, it backfires. Instead of America, the spell affects Germany, making the serious man face a new life as a canine. After escaping the authorities, Germany, now going by his human (... er dog) name, Ludwig, finds himself lost in the Big Apple. With the help of an unlikely companion and ally in the form of an exuberant stray, can he find his way home and get back to normal? More importantly, will he want to? Or is this spell a curse, or a just a blessing in disguise?

**Rating**: T (Because of possible language in future chapters and the fact that I'm really paranoid.)

**Warnings**: Human names and nation names used, OCs, and doggy!Nations (and that's always a good time, am I right?)

Oh yeah! I also do not own Hetalia or anything having to do it. The only things I own are this story and my OC, which will be revealed later.

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Chapter 1: A Spell Gone Wrong

The room was dark. It needed to be for it to work, and it just _had_ to work, otherwise Arthur knew it would drive him mad. He stood before a circle on the floor, drawn in white chalk, and decorated with many different intricate designs. He wore his black magicians' cloak; the one he always wore when performing spells as complicated as this one. His goal: turn that bloody git America into a pig. In retrospect, he already was a pig, which is exactly what gave the British nation the idea. He searched his mind for the right incantation, and his emerald-hued orbs lit up evilly when he knew he had it. He closed his eyes and began the spell.

"_Athrú ar an fear os ard fionn leis na súile gormacha isteach madra_." He chanted. "_Athrú ar an fear os ard fionn leis na súile gormacha isteach madra_." The circle began to glow intensely, a bright, white light emanating from it. "_Athrú ar an fear os ard fionn leis na súile gormacha isteach madra!_" The light became so bright that Arthur was momentarily blinded, but he swiftly recovered as the light quickly faded. The spell was complete. Arthur smirked smugly at his magical abilities. It had worked! His spell had worked, and he would never have to deal with his obnoxious former charge ever again!

"_Today has to be the greatest day of my entire life._" He thought to himself as he skipped joyously out of the room.

All the nations were gathered in the conference room, waiting for the last of the countries to file in. Only two were missing: America and Germany. It was totally normal for America to be the last to arrive at the meetings, but Germany? He was the one who kept order, the guy who ran the whole show! This worried Italy and Japan greatly, as they knew the German very well (what with getting to know each other during all the commotion during WWII), and were certain that their friend would _never_ be intentionally late to a meeting.

As the two former Axis countries scanned the room for the missing blond, Arthur sat at his seat with a grin so creepy and dark it could make Russia look like a pussycat in comparison. He knew why America wasn't here. He took delight in the fact that he was probably rolling around in a mud puddle and eating slop on some nondescript barnyard right about now. He was just about to sigh in contentment when the double doors burst open to reveal the very bane of the Englishman's existence – in human form. America stood there, hands on his hips, clothed in his usual attire of bomber jacket, black gloves, and of course, Texas sitting upon the bridge of his nose.

"The hero has arrived!" America boomed in his usual, jovial tone. Arthur gaped at him in shock.

"_How the bloody hell is he still human? I know the spell worked! I saw it working right before my very eyes! God, I need a drink…_" America strolled over to his former guardian and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Iggy, you feelin' alright? Dude, you look like you need an espresso or somethin'." Arthur sighed dejectedly.

"I don't need any of your bloody coffee, America! Now leave me be. I need to work some things out in my head." He mumbled into the tabletop. The American shrugged, and made his way over to his seat.

"_What went wrong? I'm positive I said the incantation correctly… right? I'll just have to check_." Arthur began rummaging around in his knapsack for his spell book. He opened it to the page he had marked for the hog spell. "_Let me see here… ah here we go! _Athrú ar an fear fionn dúr le súile gormacha isteach muc_…_" His eyes widened. "_I don't think that's what I said… I believe I said… _Athrú ar an fear os ard fionn leis na súile gormacha isteach madra_… yes that was it. But what does it mean? I know the original spell translated to 'transform the stupid blond man with blue eyes into a hog', but what does the incantation _I_ did mean_?" He then proceeded to pull his laptop from his bag and look up an Irish-to-English translator (quite ironic that the spell would be in Irish, since he and his brother Patrick held such a strong animosity towards one and other). The result of the translation popped onto the screen, and Arthur inwardly cursed. "_Bullocks._" As it turned out, the incantation he'd said had meant'transform the loud blond man with blue eyes into a dog'. He headdesked. He only knew one man who was very loud, blond, and blue-eyed.

Suddenly, the door swung open once again, this time a security guard standing in the doorway. He strode into the room, and walked right up to Prussia (why he was even _there_, Arthur had no clue). The albino ex-nation eyed the man cautiously.

"I noticed you on the way in," The man said. "And I saw a cross like this one around your neck." He opened his hand to reveal what appeared to be a dog collar, an Iron Cross like the one both Beilschmidt brothers wore dangling from where a tag would usually be. Prussia just stared at the man, dumbfounded.

"Uh… okay… And _why_ exactly are you showing this to me?" He asked slowly as he took the collar from the man and shoved it in his pocket.

"I pulled this off a dog – a German shepherd – that was running around the 7th floor. I tried to catch him, but he ran down the stairs and slipped away out the front door." The guard explained.

"And you think it's my dog? Man, I don't even _have_a dog!" Prussia exclaimed. "And even if I did," He continued. "I wouldn't let him run around a Gott-forsaken hotel! That'd be totally unawesome!" The man shrugged his shoulders.

"Too bad," He sighed. "He was a good looking animal, pretty well-bred by the looks of him. His fur was this odd shade of gold, blond basically. And he had the most amazing ice blue eyes I'd ever seen on a dog, especially a shepherd!" The man left the room after that, several of the nations staring after him (namely Italy, Japan, England, and Prussia).

"Ve~ Isn't Germany's room on the 7th floor?" Italy asked.

"Yes." Japan deadpanned.

"Heh… that guy was funny! If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was describing West as a dog…" Prussia grinned, but even Italy could tell it was false. Arthur sighed, and looked Prussia dead in the eye.

"I believe he was."


End file.
